


what in the bull shit

by Random_ag



Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: Funny, How Do I Tag, Meta, Random & Short, Self-Insert, What In The Depths Of Hell, idk what this is supposed to be just take it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-21 15:29:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18705121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Random_ag/pseuds/Random_ag
Summary: Henry has an Experience instead of finishing Chapter 2 and gets out of it with a bud.based on a funny submission i got (cough, https://randomwriteronline.tumblr.com/post/183681021795/sammy-shhh-listeni-can-hear-him-crawling , cough)





	what in the bull shit

“Shh! I can hear him. Crawling above… Crawling!”

 

Right as Sammy wiggled his fingers menacingly to further emphazise the word, a deafening, graceless metallic rockus anticipated the opening of a vent just above the prophet.

 

A big gangled body smashed the inky man into a puddle as a grave croaking voice yelled: “Holy shit, Henry, you will not believe what I just found-”

 

“Who the hell are you?!” the tied up elder protested, mildly terrified.

 

The skeleton wearing some vaguely human skin he had probably stolen from a zombie didn’t immediately reply - actually he didn’t reply  _at all_ , ignoring his question to ramble some more in several different languages, none of which Henry could have understood even if he had tried really hard. He then proceeded to free the poor animator in order to hurl him in the vents he had come from, enter the small claustrophobic ducts himself, and push the poor soul forward, practically rolling him around as if he were a snowball.

 

It took a good five minutes before the two of them tumbled out of a wardrobe and into what looked like the coziest room in existence.

 

Their sudden entrance scared the crap out of what seemed to be an anthropomorphic bundle of light of several different colors, which jumped straight into the air disassembling its form and screaming bloody murder at the noise.

 

“We’re back!” Eska announced like a puppy waiting for a treat.

 

“You should not have been here to begin with!” the mass of light replied, slowly reshaping itself in the form of a human noodle, “And who’s that?”

 

“Henry.”

 

“You brought  _Henry_  here?!”

 

“Yes.”

 

“I-! Put him back!”

 

“Wanted to make him see you.”

 

“He did! Now put him back!”

 

“I am  _not_  going back to that hellhole!” Henry protested once he finally regained his senses. He looked straight into the shining brown spots he believed were the eyes of whatever in the hell that was: “Do you have any idea what being in there is like? Just today I got three concussions and at least two near-death experiences in the span of what, five hours? And something tells me there’s lots more to come!”

 

The Noodle tortured their long, glowing hands, uneasy. They turned around unsurely as if looking for someone to give them any kind of indication on what they should do: they only found Eska burying himself under a particularly fluffy pile of covers. The animator took this as a sign he could rest, and laid on his back, breathing deep in and out, in and out. The pavement was surprisingly soft, but it didn’t have a moquette. He just accepted it. It was better than bare wood and carcass-smelling ink damping everything.

 

“But… You should really go back…” his unexpected host muttered. Still, hearing the old man’s huff, they grabbed a warm mug, offering it to him tentatively: “You like hot cocoa?”

 

He held it, thankful: “It wouldn’t hurt, thanks. I’ve been eating cold bacon soup this whole time…”

 

“Yeah, I know. Actually, sorry to ask, but do you…  _Eat_  the can, too, or do you open it first, and then go on to the actual food?”

 

“I… Of course I open the can! Do you expect me to eat alluminium?”

 

“No, ‘s just. I don’t see you do that.”

 

Henry turned to them.

 

“You… See me.”

 

“Ye.”

 

“In the Studios.”

 

“Ye.”

 

“Everything I do.”

 

“Ye.”

 

“And everything I go through.”

 

“Ye.”

 

“And it never occured to you…? That I might, maybe, need help?”

 

They stared at each other for a while.

 

The while became thirty whole minutes.

 

The thirty minutes became two hours.

 

“Are you going to answer me or-”

 

“Well, what can I do, drop myself into the story and magically solve everything?” the Noodle complained, finally snapping back.

 

Henry nodded: “Yes!” he shouted, “That’s exactly what you can do!”

 

The Noodle got stuck again. For more or less a minute this time, fortunately. They grabbed Henry, launched him back into the closet without even letting him yell ‘hey!’, and slammed the door shut, putting their whole (although not particularly excessive) weight on it.

 

It took half a second for them to regret that decision.

 

 _Sure,_  he  _was_ a horror videogame protagonist and his journey  _was_ supposed to be filled with horrible stuff, but did he  _ask_ for that? They  _should_  have gone with him and helped him out,  _or_  lent him some of their umbrellakinds,  _or_  allowed Eska to go along with him…

 

Wait, there it was! The perfect solution!

 

The Noodle dug into a comfy pile of soft blankets, holding then above their head a dark haired man with a scarred eyebrow.

 

“Uh. What are you doing?” Joey asked, visibly not thrilled at the idea of whatever was in store for him.

 

His creator put him down and threw open the wardrobe once again: “You’re going down there and helping Henry out.”

 

“W- Wait, wait, that messes up the whole story!”

 

“You’ll get a chance to redeem your story self, Joseph! And help your bud out! It’s a win-win!”

 

“Why can’t you go?!”

 

“Because that would be a Mary Sue situation.”

 

“I didn’t agree to this!”

 

“Listen, Henry’s very small and he has no money. So you can imagine the kind of stress he’s under.”

 

“… Are you implying I’m short?”

 

“No, you’re like 1.80m, it’s-”

 

“ _Sorry,_  My-True-Form-Is-A-Giant-Pillar-Of-Plasma, not everyone can be as colossal as you!”

 

“-It’s a John Mulaney bit-”

 

“Who the hell is John Mulaney?!”

 

“He’sacommedianit’snotimportant now  _go_!” the Noodle shouted exasperated as they kicked Joey into the wardrobe, “Rememberyoucan’tdieforeverinthere,  _BYE_  and have  _fuuun_!”

 

The deity sat back on their chair, eagerly looking at their computer.

 

Now  _this_  was going to be fun.


End file.
